Rejection
by SavL7
Summary: After being rejected from the only college she applied for Wendy turns to her grade school arch enemy for help. Will Eric Cartman use his influence to destroy Wendy's pride and dignity or will Wendy be able to turn the tables on him? CartmanxWendy
1. Chapter 1

_a/n: I just realized there is such a thing as south park fanfiction and couldn't help myself. i do not own south park. ps: i will be deleting some of my old stories that i have put on hiatus. _

* * *

Today was the day. She smiled to herself in the mirror. Placing her old purple hat over her straight long dark hair, she took a deep breath and a final glance. All the hard work she had put into school had been leading up to this point. The many nights she had ditched Stan to study derivatives or the subtle themes of Shakespeare's works, the many lunches she skipped out on Bebe to go talk to the teacher, the constantly full afternoons filled with extra curricular activities were all for this very moment in her life.

She headed out of her bedroom door and to the stairs. As she walked down the stairs she saw her mother in her classic blue jacket and brown skirt. Her mother seemed to be in a rush as she grabbed her portfolio off the coffee table. She hardly even noticed Wendy walking down the stairs until she reached the door. "Oh sweetie, you're up early," her mother commented quickly her hand still on the doorknob.

Wendy's smile widened, "Yes mother, I'm supposed to get some good news today."

Her mother barely nodded, "That's great dear. I have to get going." Her mother quickly left out the door without asking what the news was.

For a quick moment Wendy's happiness flooded out, but she quickly remembered the news she would be receiving. Her mother would be so supportive once she told her. Like a baby bird starting to fly, she felt the new winds under her wings. She skipped down the last two steps of the stairs and opened the door. She saw her mom backing out of the driveway in her black SUV. She heard the crunching sound the tires made in the fresh snow on the road. Then with a quick roar of the engine, her mother was gone. Wendy eyes moved from the direction the car had went to the silver mailbox at the front of her yard.

She knew it was girly, but she squealed softly in delight. Her strides lengthen as she hurried across the pathway. She opened up the mailbox with heightened anticipation to find…nothing.

A small frown appeared on her lips. The mailman must not have come yet. She let out an irritated sigh. She pushed up her jacket to look at her watch 7 o'clock. Class started at 8:15 so she had an hour. Hopefully, the mail man would come before then.

"Where the hell is he?" Wendy growled aloud. She had begun pacing back and forth in the snow forming a deep indent of her path. She glanced at her watch to see it was almost eight. The high school was about a five minute drive from her house, but since her mom and father had both left now she was without a car. If she walked it would take almost twenty minutes.

She gave a longing glance at the mailbox mentally willing the mail to be inside. She knew it was a lost cause. She knew she would have to until after school, but damnit! She went back inside to grab her backpack then quickly strutted out. She walked down the pathway and stopped by the mailbox. She opened again with false hope only to slam it again. She then huffed her way off to school.

She angrily pushed the double doors opened to her school. Her boots were soaked because the past hour she had been trenching through the snow. Her feet were even starting to get cold. Her happy mood of the morning was slowly turning deathly. She walked towards her locker hearing the squishy sound her boots made with each step. She was late for class, and there was no one in the hallways. She was somewhat relieved because she had told all her friends she had exciting new. It would be quite bothersome to explain to each one that it was just a false alarm.

As she made a turn around the corner to her locker, she saw a tall boy with scruffy black hair covered by a puffball hat. He seemed to be spacing out. His eyes stared up at the ceiling.

"Stan," she said her long-term boyfriends name in some surprise, "What are you doing here?"

Stan's eyes immediately went to her. A smile formed on his face as he answered, "I promised didn't I? So is my girlfriend a Harvard girl?"

Wendy smiled a small smile, but her eyes fell to the ground. She let out a tired sigh, "I don't know." She slowly walked over to her locker not really looking at Stan. She opened up her locker putting away her backpack and pulling out the books she needed.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Stan asked concern.

"The mail just hasn't come yet," she said and forced a smile as she shut her locker.

That cause Stan to immediately relax, "I guess I'll just be early then and say congratulations."

She tried to take comfort in Stan's comfort, but the fact that the mail hadn't come yet really bothered her. She nodded before saying, "We should head to class. I hate being late."

Wendy opened the door for both her and Stan to sneak in. Luckily, the teacher was writing stuff up on the bored while students in the class talked.

"Stan, you know you should pay for your ho after school and not before," Cartman shouted aloud with a smirk. Wendy shot the fat boy a glare. He really hadn't changed since elementary school. Okay he had lost a lot of his baby fat from the old days, but he still was larger than other boy in school.

Kenny started laughing while the teacher turned from the board to the class then to Stan and Wendy at the door. Mr. Jackson was a hard core prick when it came to his class. "Why are you late?" he asked with a serious glare.

She felt Stan hesitate behind her, but after the many conversation she had with teachers she felt no longer intimidated by them. "My mother had promised to drive us, but she was called into the office early. We were forced walk, and it took longer then expected," she said looking at the floor like she was actually sorry. She felt Stan give her a supportive thank you squeeze on her shoulder.

The lie had obviously worked because Jackson didn't respond at first. He then let out a grunt, "Take your seats."

"But Mr. Jackson," Cartman whined, "Their interruptance into class has completely destroyed my concentration. How am I supposed to focus knowing Wendy was giving five cents blow job and I missed out only because I didn't want to be late for your important lesson?"

"Shut up you fatass!" Wendy shouted unable to control her outburst.

"Five cents?" Kenny perked up.

"Wendy Testaburger and Eric Cartman!" Jackson shouted gripping his chalk tight into his hands, "I am tired of you're two's nonsense. You both will talk to me after class, and if the behavior continues you will visit the principal."

Wendy's free hand naturally turned into a fist as a scowl formed her face. "Yes sir," she responded politely as she trudged to her desk.

Cartman, however, had a grin plastered on his face. It made her even angrier. Usually when a teacher planned to scold him Cartman would show some form of protest, but he looked like he didn't even care. Her fist could make him care. She had beaten him up in fourth grade she could do it again.

She sat in her desk and forced her glare towards their teacher. She pulled out her notebook and attempted to take decent notes, but she kept breaking the lead in her mechanical pencil. She would angrily push the eraser down to extract more lead. Then it would break again. The day had easily gone from her best to worst.

By the end of class, she had gone through three mechanical pencils. She stuffed her stuff into her begs as her classmate's slowly departed.

"Eric. Wendy. Come up here," the teacher called in a stern voice as he sat behind his desk.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" Stan gave her a hopeful smile before departing her. Where was the man who saved his damsel in distress? Okay, she never wanted a man to take care of her, but showing a little fear or sympathy never hurt.

"Shut up Kenny," she heard Cartman say behind her, but she never caught what Kenny said. Even though Kenny no longer wore the orange sweatshirt over his head, he could still mumble his words making it difficult to here.

With a deep sigh she went to the front of the class hearing Cartman's footsteps behind her. She walked to the oak desk and felt Cartman's presence at her side. The teacher continued to look through some paperwork like they weren't even there. He flipped through each page slowly. He read over something then moved on the next. Wendy was getting irritated by the action. He shouldn't call them forward if he planned on making them wait!

Cartman let out a low whiny sigh that only he could pull. It sounded like a dying cat. Wendy even felt herself flinching from the noise. Strangely enough, the teacher actually looked up at the two of them. His eyes not seeming too pleased with Cartman. "I realize this is the last semester of your high school career, but I cannot stand misbehavior. Now, I'm not like most teachers who would give you afterschool detention. I don't feel like you actually learn something from it," Jackson began as he looped his fingers together on top of his wooden desk.

After school detention was the last thing she wanted. She had both model UN and the debate club after school. She wouldn't miss them for some stupid slip with Cartman.

"So," the teacher drawled out, "You both will work on a project that I will want to be turned in at the end of the year. A twenty page report plus presentation on anything related to this class."

"What?" Wendy squeaked out in surprise.

"You're fucking kidding me right?" Cartman added as he folded his arms over his big chest.

"21 pages," the teacher added, "Every time you disrupt class with your antics or free lip mouth I will add a page."

"B-but this is basically my first offense in the class. Why am I being punished with him? We'll have thirty pages added by the end of the week!" Wendy shouted, slamming her hands on the desk.

"It looks like you'll have to make sure that doesn't happen then," he answered with a cold glare before looking back at his papers, "You two are free to go."

Wendy hand turned into a fist. She felt her nails digging into her palm while she slowly turned away from the evil teacher.

Cartman just gave a shrug and headed to the door. He was just going to leave without talking about this! She quickly ran back to her desk and grabbed her bag. She was then out the door and looking down the hallway for Cartman. She saw his larger form heading down the hallway and called out, "Cartman!"

He paused then looked back, "What do you want ho?"

Wendy shut her eyes tightly trying to control the anger rushing through her body before walking over to him. Then with a deep calming breath she said, "We need to wok on this as soon as possible. We could even start tonight."

Cartman shrugged again, "Whatever. You can start."

Her hazel eye narrowed staring into his brown ones. "We can start," she repeated.

He shook his head as a vile smirk began to liven his face. "Nah I don't think so. I'm getting the fuck out of this shithole so I'm not wastin my time when I got better stuff to do."

"We will fail the class," Wendy hissed bringing her fist hand up to his face.

He gave it a cautious glance. It had been years, but he still remembered the beat down. "Pfft whatever. Like I said I got better things to do," he said and walked away from her.

She was going to kill him! She was going to kill him! "Cartman! I will…" her threat began but was interrupted by a cracking noise coming from the intercoms.

"_Hello students! This is the morning announcement with Annie! Today we have exciting news. One of our very own students has been accepted into Harvard!" _Annie's voice in the announcements shouted.

Wendy slowly felt a smile cross her face again. She hadn't received the acceptance letter yet, but she was a sure thing. She wondered if this was Stan's doing.

"_This is the first time someone from South Park High School has ever been accepted to such a prestigious school so everyone should congratulate Eric Cartman!" _

"WHAT?" Wendy shouted so loudly in the middle of the hallway a few students stopped to look at her. Her eyes literally looked ready pop out of her head while her mouth just gaped opened. Eric Cartman? Eric Cartman had been accepted into Harvard! Oh god…


	2. Chapter 2

_a/n: i definitely have never written so much cursing in one chapter. phew. i feel like foul mouth bitch right now haha. do not own south park._

* * *

"How the hell did you get into Harvard, fatass?" the stupid Jew asked him from across the table. His bright red hair was annoyingly puffy, and Cartman silently wished he never burned that gay green hat he always wore. How was he supposed to know that the Jew wouldn't have bought a new one…oh that's right he cheap!

Cartman couldn't help but smile though. "Kalh some of us are actually naturally born bright. I'm sorry that Jewish blood only makes you smart when you have cash in front of you," he said sweetly watching as each word made the bright red head angrier.

"You don't know anything about Jews, you fat fuck!" Kyle pointed his finger across the table sending a cold glare his direction.

"Mel Gibson has taught me all the necessary information," he said smugly.

"Mel Gibson is a racist anti-Semite pig like you, asswipe!" the boy shouted.

"Aye! Don't insult Mel Gibson like that you jew bastard!" Cartman shouted finally starting to get irritated himself with Kyle ignorant bull shit that seemed to constantly stream out of the faggot's mouth.

"Uh…what's going on?" Stan appeared with his lunch tray and sat cautiously next to Kyle and across from Kenny. Kenny was slouched over the table. He had his face balanced in his hand while his free hand doodled over the empty space in front of him. It almost looked like the poor kid was imagining food there. Pathetic poor people. He almost wanted to tell his friend to look in the trash, but his focus was still on the Jew.

Cartman's eyes were in a staring war with Kyle. They both looked ready to kill. Kenny let out a tired sigh, "They're having their gay sexual tension fights again."

Stan chuckled at the comment as he sat down, but both Cartman and Kyle whipped their deadly glare to their hungry friend. "SHUT THE FUCK UP KENNY!" they both shouted at the boy in unison.

When Cartman realized a Jew had just copied him, he crossed his arms in a huff and turned his gaze away from his table.

"Jesus Christ you guys, lunch started five minutes ago," Stan commented.

"It's not my fucking fault fatass won't tell me how he cheated himself into college," Kyle hissed as he pushed his fork into his mash potatoes.

"Oh that's right," Stan said like the information had just hit him, "How did you get in?"

Cartman frowned at that. Was it so hard to fucking believe that he actually did do well in school? "I got good grades you idiot. How else do I get in?" he said annoyed.

Stan blinked blankly at him like the information had gone completely over his head. Then he started laughing. The fucker actually started to laugh! Then through chokes of laughter he said, "No seriously?"

"I am being seriously!" Cartman shouted.

Cartman's last statement shut Stan up. The boy looked at him with that confused expression, but before he said anything the red head jew butted in. "You speak like a fucking idiot half the time. How do you expect us to believe you?" Kyle said with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

Cartman frowned, but then pointed to Kenny who, at the moment, was too busy drooling over Stan's lunch. "How do you think Kenny gets good grades, you retard? He copies off of me!" he declared.

The other two boys turned their eyes to Kenny looking for some sort of confirmation. Kenny mind was dreaming about the taste of that chicken dipped in the mash potatoes and gravy. It would swirl into a sweet bliss in his mouth until taking him to a heaven filled with boobs. "Kenny," Kyle stated bringing the boy out of his haze.

Kenny looked at the goofy red head. He had only slightly been pay attention to their conversation, but he knew better then to disagree with Cartman. "Yep like he says," he said then went back to staring at the food.

"Seeeee," Cartman added feeling proud of himself. Idiots like Kyle and Stan could never understand his brilliance. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the she-devil from hell walking through the entrance of the cafeteria. She wore a rather tight dark purple tee-shirt and tight jeans. Cartman found it humorous how the girl attempted not care about boy's attention by purposely not wearing the short skirts and low cleavage shirts, but would hypocritically wear tight ass shit. He could almost make out the trim of her bra. He let out an agonized groan when he saw her. He hated her. She was the exact definition of everything Eric Cartman despised, ignorant hypocritical hippy feminist. If she were black and Jewish it would have only topped it off.

Stan followed Cartman's eyes and immediately smiled. "Hey Wendy," he said sweetly to her, but she completely ignored him. Her hands slammed on the table and actually jolted Kenny from his daydream causing the kid to sway back in his plastic chair. Her hazel eyes were narrowed, and the aura radiating off her looked deadly.

Cartman, who thought Kenny almost falling off his chair was funny and was laughing, finally realized the bitch was glaring at him. "What do you want ho?" he asked in irritation.

"How the hell did you get into Harvard?" she asked.

"Aw God Damnit!" Cartman yelled getting completely annoyed by this stupid question. He definitely remembered the announcement telling people to congratulate him!

Before Cartman could on another long rant about how much smarter he was then anyone in this godforsaken school, Kenny pulled something out of his orange zip up jacket. He placed it on the table right in front of Wendy. "So I was thinking behind the dumpster so no teachers catch us," Kenny said in a serious tone.

Cartman looked at the five tiny bronze circles on the table and realized they were pennies. He couldn't stop himself from cracking up laughing. The ho truly deserved that.

"Kenny!" Kyle said in surprise. Cartman looked at the Jew who was about to ruin the fun. Cartman thought he was going to defend Wendy, even though the stupid bastard hadn't been in the class with them to even know what the insult was about. "You actually have five cents?" he asked in complete shock.

Cartman laughed harder. This was so perfect! Kenny just shrugged his shoulders. It caused his mop of blond hair to get in his face as he answered, "I've been digging through couches at you're guy's houses."

Wendy's face at the moment was priceless. Her mouth was a gape like the words had literally been stolen from her speech. Her cheeks had also become a tinge bit red. Her supposed boyfriend just sat there awkwardly. He was fidgeting with his fork trying to determine whether he should defend her or keep quiet.

"I'm not a whore, Kenny! Cartman's a liar," she said in a girly squeal and pushed his five cents off the table causing it to land on the ground.

Kenny frowned at the action. "I assumed that, but it never hurts to try," he mumbled out annoyed that he now had to crawl on the floor and find his money.

"Hey Wends, you want to take a seat?" Stan asked trying to defuse the situation.

"No I don't Stan," she said in a little bitch fit, "I don't want to sit with a fat fuck who cheated his way into college. You should choose you're friends more wisely." She turned around whipping her long black hair back in the process. She then paused and hissed out, "You're helping me with this project. If I have to kill you to rip you're big fingers away from your cheesy poofs in order do it, I will." She then walked away in an angry wind towards the table where most of the girls sat.

"What the fuck crawled up her ass and bit it?" Cartman grumbled as he turned back to his food. He looked at his fingers real quick. He really wasn't that big anymore. Yes, he could probably lose another fifteen pounds but he definitely wasn't fat. He grumbled to himself as he stuffed some of his lunch in his mouth. Stupid bitch deserved what was coming to her.

"Seriously Stan you're girlfriend is nuts. She was nuts back in fourth grade, and she's nuts now," Kyle said to his best friend.

"She's not always like that guys. Cartman just pushes her buttons," Stan defended his girlfriend.

"Cartman pushes my buttons, but I don't act like a whiny pms bitch," Kyle argued.

"That's your opinion," Cartman mentioned causally.

"Shut up fat ass," Kyle answered with a glare.

Cartman then felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He slowly pulled it out to see the name _Butter_ on his caller ID. He frowned. Butters would totally ruin his plans if people knew they were talking. "My stupid bitch mother," Cartman grumbled and stood up.

"You mean dirty whore," Kyle corrected.

To that Cartman answered with his middle finger as he headed out of the cafeteria. He quickly weaved through the tables to the doors hearing bits and pieces of conversation on the way. He ignored them all, but couldn't ignore the annoying feeling of someone glaring at his back. Once the large double doors shut behind him, he opened up his phone and in a harsh whisper said, "God damn it Butters, you better have a good fucking reason you're calling me now!"

"Um I'm sorry Eric. I'm just calling you like you said," Butters said sheepishly over the phone.

Cartman groaned as his hand slid up his face. "It's okay Butters. I've gotten so use to you fucking up everything that I've learned how to fix all your mistakes," he answered.

"Ah thanks Eric! You really are a great friend!" Butter answered all happily. He definitely was fag.

Cartman waited on the phone for Butters to continue with the information Cartman wanted, but the phone line was silent. "Butters?" he asked.

"Yes Eric?"

Like he said before…everyone in this school was a fucking retard. "Why did you call?" he hissed out annoyed.

"Oh that's right! The mailman dropped off Wendy's mail at my house just like you said he would. Faking sick was tough, but Ma and Pa believed me. I hope I don't get grounded though," Butters began on some off topic tangent.

"I don't care Butters! What did the letter say?" he asked getting straight to the point.

"Oh I haven't opened it yet," he answered.

Cartman turned around and banged his head on one of the metal lockers. He might not even have to go with his revenge plan if she was rejected anyways, but the thought of her being rejected seemed low to none. He smirked. He hoped she was accepted. It would make this all the more fun. Revenge was definitely sweet. His mind went back to the day Wendy totally fucked him over.

It was last semester. He had been listening to Kenny going on and on about his female conquest. He decided then and there that he was too old to be a virgin. The people who were virgins at his age were people like Kyle and Stan…and god forbid Clyde. He couldn't be grouped in with _them._ He decided to get laid by the end of the semester. He went through the list of girls in his mind. He wanted someone easy, but not too easy like Bebe. He also didn't want to deal with any extremely bitchy girls like Heidi and Sally. His eyes eventually fell on a redhead in class. He wasn't into red heads, but he remembered how insecure the girl was. Insecure girls were definitely the best. They did a lot more because they wanted to please you…at least that was what Kenny always said. He stared at the girl attempting to remember her name. It was something really easy.

"Red," the teacher called out her name to answer a question. Red! Yes, that was easy. He would lose his virginity to Red. The girl truly didn't know how lucky she was. After class, he sauntered up to her as she was putting away her books. She paused and looked up at him. "What?" she asked slightly confused.

"I was wondering if you could tutor me?" he asked sweetly.

"No," she stated going back to putting away her books.

Cartman didn't let the rejection slow him down. He only continued, "You see all the other students don't seem to know anything about Statistics. You seem to be the only intelligent one in the class. I really want to do well and I feel like only a smart pretty girl like you could help me."

The girl paused in placing her books in her bag. She gave him a suspicious look he was used to getting. "You never talk to me Cartman. Why don't you ask one of you're friends to help?"

"Like I said I need someone _smart_," he answered. As he expected, she agreed to help him. She really was a dumb ditz when it came to math, but Cartman faked being amazed quite well. After a few weeks, he decided to step up his game. He would brush her hair out of her face or he would comment on the nice top she had. She ate it right up. And when he kissed her a week later, she didn't run out the door. She stopped him from going too far…which was annoying…but he was close to getting what he wanted.

The next day when he saw her in the cafeteria, he ran over to her. He grabbed her forearm to stop her from moving, and with a cheerful smile said, "Hey! We meeting up tonight?"

Red yanked her arm free and turned a cold glare to him. "Wendy told me what you told your friends. You're just trying to fuck me!" she hissed at him.

He instantly frowned. Stan needed to learn when to keep his mouth fucking shut. "What are you talking about? I just needed your help with math," he said attempting to defend himself. It was too late though. The girl had the thought already set inside her head. Women were great at holding grudges.

"You fucking liar! You have a better grade then me! Wendy told me! Don't ever talk to me again! Ever!" she shouted and twirled away from him.

Cartman stood there in the middle of the cafeteria with all eyes on him. All chances with Red were blown and all chances with any other girl were complete shot to hell. But then it had to get worse.

"Don't think girls are stupid. You'll never get laid in your life with that attitude and your fat ass," Wendy said from her table as she got up to comfort Red.

Then everyone laughed.

Cartman's hand turned into an angry fist as he vowed to get revenge on Wendy Testaburger.

"She got accepted Cartman," Butters said into the phone.

A slow evil smile spread across Cartman's face as he turned away from the lockers. "Good. Now make sure you switch the letter with the one we made before giving her back the mail. Then I'll go to the post office and unforward it back to her house."

"Uh Okay Eric…but…but are you sure doing this is right?" Butters asked worried, "What if it hurts her feelings?"

"How are we suppose to throw a surprise acceptance party if she knows she's accepted? Come on Butters think about it!" he told him.

"Yeah…I guess that makes sense. Okay so I'll tell my parents to give it to her after school?" he asked.

"Yep and remember the lines," Cartman reminded him.

"Got it," Butters said determined to be successful.

"Good. I'll talk to you later," he said. Before giving Butters a chance to respond he flipped his phone shut and put it into his pocket. He did love revenge.

* * *

Wendy all but ran home after school. Today had been horrible, but she planned for it all to change once she got to the mail. The mailbox taunted her as she ran along to sidewalk. Only a few more steps and then her future would be in hand! She felt her heart beating against her ribcage. Even Eric Cartman getting accepted to the same school as her couldn't destroy this moment. She reached the mailbox and quickly opened it to find…nothing…again!

"Damn it," she hissed out in a quiet whisper. She slammed the mailbox shut then rubbed her hands in one another. She did a quick glance down the road searching for a mail truck. All she saw were the snowflakes gently falling. She then looked at her front door. Her father's small car was in the driveway. He must have taken the mail in, she determined. She ran up her front pathway and through the door. "Father!" she shouted into the house.

Her father was reading the newspaper on the couch. He didn't look up at her as he responded, "Yes?"

"Have you gotten the mail?" she asked trying not to let the fear and anticipation in her voice seep through.

"Oh Wendy, your friend Butters' parents stopped by and dropped off our mail. They strangely got it, but they've already worked it out with the post office so it doesn't happen again," he father stated then nodded to the pile on the coffee table, "It looks like you got something."

A large happy smile crossed her face as she slowly pushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. She couldn't believe it. It was here! She almost did a small dance, but decided that would be immature. She slowly walked over to the pile of envelopes on the coffee table. She looked for a large folder one. She had realized a long time ago acceptance letters were the big ones. However, as she scanned the envelopes she found them all to be the same. She frowned. A small bit of worried crossed her mind, but she put it away. She sat down on the couch next to her father. She then slowly leaned over the coffee table. Her hands reached to collect all the letters. She grouped them, and then pulled them on top of her lap. She slowly searched through the pile until coming across one with the Harvard logo. Her name was written in the center. She pulled it out slowly almost like she was in some sort of dream or nightmare. It was just a normal envelope.

Her heart was pounding faster and harder. She felt herself biting her lip. A normal envelope…it couldn't be…

She slowly stuck her finger in between the flap and began tearing it open. Her breathing had gotten heavier as the letter inside became visible.

"Are you okay dear?" her father commented.

She nodded quickly. She needed to get her act together. Just because it was in a small envelope did not necessarily mean she was rejected. She decided she would treat it like a band-aid and quickly rip it off. So with out any further delay, she pulled the letter out and opened it.

_Dear Miss Wendy Testaburger,_

_We are sorry to inform you that we cannot accept you're application at this time. We have had an increasing number of applicants over the years making the decision even harder on our faculty and staff. It is unfort_

She stopped reading.

…

"Wendy?" her father voice called out to her from miles away.

Her face felt wet as big tears started to stream down her face. It was over…Her life was over…

How could she have been rejected?


	3. Chapter 3

_a/n: when i really like a story i just can't stop writing lol. thanks for the reviews everyone! do not own south park. warning: there is racism in this chapter like there is in all of them._

* * *

The door to her room slammed shut. Her back fell against her wooden door as she controlled her heavy breathing. Her fingers slowly tightened around the letter in her hand. With each movement of her fingers she crumpled up the destructive paper. When she felt the paper tightly in her hand, she chucked the disgusting thing against her pink wall letting out a held in scream.

"AHH!" she yelled pounding her fist against the wall. She glared at her room filled with pink and yellow colors. Her collection of unicorns was lined against her windowsill. It almost looked like they were disappointed in her. Their heads tilting to the side just slightly as their eyes judged her. "Don't look at me like that!" she shouted pointing at the horned horses. She then looked over at her bookcase filled with advance law and business books. She had planned on taking them all to school with her, but now…

She closed her eyes as she felt another tear slip down her face. She had only applied to Harvard. She had been so certain she would get in she didn't apply to any other school. And now since she had gotten rejected she was…

Oh god…

Stuck in South Park!

She ran over to her bed and collapsed on top of her yellow comforter. She grabbed her pillow and began screaming into it. She kept screaming trying to chase away this nightmare. The pillow muffled it all from her sort of concern parents. She felt the back of her throat becoming sore and her voice threatening to leave. She stopped screaming and settled for deep fast breaths.

Stuck in South Park….could she handle that?

She bit her lip. Her life was over! She started crying again. Each tear that fell down her face was larger then the last.

_She nothing like the girl you ever seen before. Nothing you can compare to your neighborhood hoe. I'm trying to find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful. Damn you a sexy bitch, a sexy bitch, _the song rang aloud as she felt vibrating in her pocket.

Bebe was calling.

Wendy didn't move as the song continued to ring through her room. She knew if she didn't pick up Bebe would only call again, but she really didn't want to talk to her. With a defeated sigh, Wendy pulled her iphone out. She saw a drunken picture of Bebe winking at her before sliding the red tab to answer it.

She brought the phone up to her ear, and then in a sad voice said, "Hello."

"Hey girl! I was hoping you could come to the mall with me today. I need a new outfit. All my clothes are just sooo dull," her friend said into the phone. Wendy could picture Bebe looking through her closet as she talked to her.

In the calmest voice Wendy could muster she said, "I can't make it today. Sorry."

The phone line was silent (very unusual for Bebe). Then her best friend finally spoke up, "What happened? Has Stan been neglecting his boyfriend duties again?"

"No. No," Wendy said in a hurry as she tried to control her almost sob, "Stan's great as always."

"Then what's wrong? I can hear that I'm-going-to-act-tough-even-though-I'm-crying-right-now tone you're giving me," Bebe said.

Bebe had been her best friend since elementary school, so it wasn't very surprising that she knew when Wendy was upset. But at this moment she wished her friend wasn't so observant. "I…I…" Wendy began, "I didn't get accepted." Saying it aloud caused her heart to scrunch together in pain. Damn it! The horrible truth was real. It had really happened.

"I thought Student Council accepted you as President at the beginning of this year," Bebe stated confused.

"No Bebe," Wendy said annoyed.

"And people don't say no to volunteers so weren't you accepted at the Soup kitchen," Bebe continued on without hearing Wendy's protest.

"No Bebe!" Wendy said even more irritated.

"And isn't everyone accepted into that Debate club of yours," Bebe went on.

"NO BEBE THAT'S NOT IT! I wasn't accepted into Harvard!" Wendy yelled into the phone.

"Oh…" Bebe responded.

Wendy face had turned into an ugly scowl. "Yeah so there just went my life!" Wendy said dramatically.

"But…wait, didn't Cartman get into Harvard?" Bebe asked innocently.

Shit. She had completely forgotten the fatass had gotten accepted to her dream school. This could not get worse! "Yeah he did," Wendy angrily whined into the phone.

"Well?" Bebe asked.

"Well what?" Wendy said confused.

"Well aren't you curious how the hell he got accepted and you didn't? He obviously did something," Bebe commented.

A light bulb popped above Wendy's head. She sat up in bed. "You're right," Wendy said into the phone as the idea swirled through her head. "I'll see you tomorrow," she stated and then clicked off the phone.

She knew she couldn't talk to Cartman about how he got himself in. He was a sociopathic liar, but she could talk to the admissions office about it. She saw the crumpled paper on the floor. She got up from the bed and picked it up. She slowly uncrumpled it and tried not to look at the actual words written on it. Her eyes quickly fell to the bottom of the paper looking for contact information. She found the number and then punched it into her phone. She brought it up to her ear to hear the ringing sound. Her heart sped up with anticipation, but she was going find out why an idiot had gotten in and not her. She was determined to find out.

* * *

Cartman was sitting on his couch with the Xbox controller in his hand. He watched as another zombie burst into a million pieces as he hacked through it with a chainsaw. He let out a laugh.

_Bring._

_ Bring._

_ Bring._

"God damn it," he growled as he put his game on pause. He pulled out his phone to see an unrecognized number. He smirked. He knew she would call with some sort of protest or tears. It was the very reason he put his number on the contact instead of the actual school number. He grabbed the voice changer that sat next to him on the couch. He brought it up to his mouth and spoke, "Testing." A deep soothing voice sounded through the small object. He sounded black. He flipped his phone opened and said, "Hello Harvard University's Admission office this is J Dog Stone speaking." If he was going to sound black he needed a black name.

"Uh Hello there. My name is Wendy um Cartman," Wendy Testaburger's voice said politely into the phone.

He paused when he heard his last name. What was Wendy getting at? He had been sure she would call to bitch. "Ah how can I help you?" he asked curious about her reasoning.

"Hi my brother was just accepted into Harvard, and I really want to be just like my big brother. I was curious what his GPA, SAT scores, and resume was," she said into the speaker.

Cartman frowned. Stupid manipulative bitch. She was trying figure out why he got in. "Ask your brother," he said a bit snippy into the phone.

"I would but…" she paused and he heard a sniffle on the other side of the phone, "Our parent's got a divorce. My dad doesn't let me call their house…and…and I just want to be like my big brother sir."

…

Wow. He was actually surprised by how good of a story that was. It sounded like something…he would make up.

"Sir?" she asked into the phone.

He blinked out of his thoughts then said, "Oh uh. I am sorry about all of that, but I can't help you Miss. Tes-Cartman. All student files are classified." He silently cursed himself for that almost screw up with his name.

"But," she started to argue.

"Sorry, but nothing will change. Is there anything else you want?" he stated into the phone.

"No. There is nothing else," she yelled into the phone and hung up on him.

"Stupid Cunt," he said at the phone before tossing it on the couch. What did his admission into the school have anything to do with hers? A hint of curiosity crossed his mind, but he had other things more important to focus on. He picked up his remote, and then clicked start.

* * *

Wendy pulled out a book from her locker. The phone call to the admissions office didn't go as plan. If she could prove to them that she was a much better candidate then Cartman they would have to accept her and hopefully kick him out. She just had to figure what got Cartman in to the school.

"Hey Wends," Stan's voice invaded her thoughts.

She gave a quick glance at her boyfriend. He had his same sincere smile as he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "Hey," she answered offhandedly as she grabbed her notebook, her thoughts tried to create plan to get the information she needed.

Stan gave her a questionable look. "What's up?" he asked as he awkwardly rubbed his hand through his dark black hair.

"Nothing," she stated then shut her locker door. She turned to head to her next class, but didn't get far because Stan had placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked worried.

"What?" she asked looking back at Stan.

"Are you mad? I mean I have no control over Kenny or Cartman…" he started to defend himself.

"No it has nothing to do with you Stan. I know you might think the world revolves around you, but it doesn't," she sniped and pulled away. She wasn't in the mood to comfort her boyfriend.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she went back to the problem at hand. She couldn't just go straight up and ask Cartman. He would never tell her the truth. Who would know? His mother? Doubtful. As she passed the principals office it all clicked! His transcripts would be in the South Park schools office. She could break in and take a look. She felt a smirk forming on her lips with newfound determination. No one rejected Wendy Testaburger. No one. She just needed someone who could help her break in.

* * *

"Kenny you got to let me see that," Cartman said trying to lean over his friend's shoulder.

"No Dude. I just stole it last night," the guy in his orange sweatshirt shrugged him off. Cartman wondered if he ever washed the thing.

"Seriously Kenny, I've never seen Asian bondage," Cartman growled at his friend.

Kenny didn't respond. He just continued flipping pages. "You're so god damn annoying, Kenny," Cartman shouted.

Again he ignored Cartman's comment so Cartman just continued with a huff, "Your poor ass is coming over to my place tonight right?"

"Yep. Can't miss out on kicking Halofag121 ass on Live," Kenny commented with a smirk as he looked at the naked Asian girl taking a whip.

"That guy is a total fag. I bet it's Kahl," Cartman said leaning his weight against the lockers.

"He kicked your ass though," Kenny said with a chuckle.

"Shut up fucker!" Cartman hissed at his friend.

Kenny laughed and Cartman turned away annoyed. He noticed Craig in a gay dark blue sweater and his old hat walking over to them. Great, Cartman thought sarcastically.

"Hey Ken, you got the stuff," Craig asked completely ignoring Cartman.

"Hey Craig ever thought of not being a douche bag?" Cartman asked.

Craig didn't even look at him. He only brought his middle finger in front of Cartman's face.

"Fuck you Craig," Cartman said to the asshole.

"Yeah, I was thinking brownies," Kenny commented.

Craig rolled his eyes, "A bit gay, but sure." Craig then started walking away like the conversation never happened. Kenny went back to his porn.

"What the fuck was that about?" Cartman grumbled.

"Craig said he has never done pot. I told him I would steal my brother's stash if he paid and let me smoke with him," he said causally.

Cartman didn't even know Kenny talked to anyone, but the guys in the group. Sort of weird he chose a douche like Craig to expand his friendship to.

"Hey Kenny!" a female voice called his name.

When the hell did Kenny get so popular? Cartman turned to a voice to see a very happy girl walking down the hallway. She held her books tightly to her chest with her long dark hair cascading over them. Wendy?

"Hello Cartman," she said very politely then turned to Kenny, "I need to speak to you."

"Why are you happy ho?" Cartman asked.

He noticed a small bit of anger in her eyes before she pushed it away with happiness. "Why wouldn't I be?" she asked with a smile.

"Cause you act like you have a six foot pole up you're ass everyday," Cartman said it like it was the most obvious answer in the world, but his thoughts were on the rejection letter he made. She got it. She had to have gotten it. She had called him last night.

"You're an asshole," she said with a straight face then turned to Kenny, "I need to talk to you alone."

Kenny didn't even glance up from his porn. "Sort of busy," he said bringing the magazine closer to his face to get a better view of the piercing.

"Looking at that smut?" she said becoming angry, "You're coming with me. You'll thank me later for saving your eyes!" She grabbed Kenny's orange sleeve and yanked him down the hallway with her. Because Kenny was so skinny, he really couldn't pull away from Wendy's crazy grip.

"Hey hippie! Give me back mah friend!" Cartman shouted, but it was too late. He grumbled an angry string of cusses before deciding to find Butters. He needed to figure out why the hippie was so happy even after finding out the rejection. Did Butters rat him out? He was a soft faggot.

Cartman traveled to Butters locker easily. He saw the blond with a weird haircut bumping his fist together nervously as he studied his books. Cartman easily snuck up on the boy and slammed his palm into his shoulders causing the kid to let out a girly squeal as he jumped. He then nervously turned around to face him. "Oh hi Eric," he said seeing it was him.

"Butters we have a problem," Cartman began.

"Really?" he asked obviously not knowing what Cartman was talking about.

"Did you make sure Wendy got the mail?" Cartman questioned.

Butters paused for a moment before nodding his head aggressively. "I'm…I'm sure Eric."

"Are you?" he questioned again, "Or are you trying to ruin the surprise for her? Are you that uncaring that you want her party suck, Butters?"

"No! No!" he said scared. His eyes fell to his fist touching, "I don't want to be the party pooper. My Pa says that's bad."

"It is bad Butters, but if you didn't do what I said you will be," Cartman continued.

"But I did, Eric!" he justified.

Cartman studied Butters' innocent face. Strange after all these years, Butters was still so sheltered and easy to manipulate. He really should thank Butters' parents one day. He then nodded, "Good. It's not a secret if you told."

"I promise Eric! I won't tell anyone," Butters said fiercely,

Cartman nodded again. Why was Wendy so happy then? He needed to talk to her more and figure it out. How would he do that without being suspicious?

_21 page paper_

His stupid History Professor's voice popped in his mind. Gay project…that could get him alone with Wendy! Score. Life sometimes was too easy.

* * *

Kenny was being forcefully yanked down the hallway. His hand was barely holding onto his porn. If Wendy made him lose it, he would be sorely PISSED off. He felt her weaving through people who looked at them stunned.

"Hey Wendy," a girl called out to her. They quickly passed a girl wearing a red tight button down and a short skirt. Her large cleavage was busting out of the shirt and distracted Kenny as he walked (dragged) by her.

"Can't talk Bebe," the dominating girl stated as he was pulled. That was Bebe! He definitely didn't realize how big the twins had gotten over the years.

Then Wendy jerked his arm one direction causing him to fall into darkness. His hands went out to catch him, but knowing his luck he would miss and crack his neck. It usually took about five days to get Satan to send him back. He missed the weekend then…fuck. Somehow his hand actually touched the floor and caught him before his head hit anything. A door slammed somewhere behind him creating complete darkness.

He reached to scratch the back of his head when he realized both of his hands were empty. Where the fuck did his porn go? His hands dropped to the ground as he searched for a magazine.

Click.

He closed his eyes as the light blinded him. He slowly turned around as he looked up at the shadowy figure. He blinked finally getting an image of a girl in yellow pants glaring down at him. "Wendy I definitely said behind the alley not inside," he looked at the shelves filled with cleaning supplies, "a janitors closet."

"Kenny I need a favor and you're going to help me," she ordered.

Kenny always had a fetish for dominatrix, and his silently wondered how Wendy would look with black leather and a whip. "I don't think Stan will appreciate this, but I definitely don't give a fuck. So where would you like me to pleasure you, Mistress?" he said as he pushed himself off the ground.

Wendy's face went from confusion to horror to anger in a matter of seconds. "EWW! GOD NO!" she shouted.

"Oh," Kenny said disappointed then turned his gaze to the ground in search of his porn, "What do you want?"

"You're going to help me break into the school tonight," she stated.

"No," he answered then smiled when he finally found his magazine.

"Yes you will," she ordered again.

"Why would I?" Kenny asked brushing off his porn.

"Because I told you too," she said crossing her arms over her chest.

Kenny thought it was slightly funny. Didn't this girl know that Cartman was his best friend? This type of intimidation didn't do anything on him. He decided he would help her out with her manipulation. "Bebe," he stated.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Get me an in with Bebe and I'll help…and by in, I mean INSIDE," he stressed the word.

Wendy's hazel eyes got big then narrowed in offense. "I'm not some pimp. Nor would I ever disrespect my own gender. Prostitution is a disgusting ILLEGAL profession."

"I never asked to buy her," Kenny said not caring for the rant. He was pretty sure his mom was a prostitute before his brother was born.

"No! It is not going to happen," Wendy answered.

"Fine, not helping," Kenny said then tried to weave pass her. Instead of moving she just kept her grip on the doorknob. Kenny looked up at her fierce determined face. She looked ready to kill.

"I'm not letting you leave until you agree to help me," she threatened.

Kenny shrugged his shoulders then went across the small room and took a seat. He pulled out his porn and flipped to the section he was on before.

"You're just gonna sit there!" Wendy shouted annoyed.

"I don't care if I miss class," he said causally.

RIIIINNNGGG!

The bell to their third class went off as if hearing Kenny's comment. Wendy looked up at the ceiling then cursed. "Damn it. Fine. I'll help you with Bebe," she said quickly.

Kenny smirked. He slowly pealed himself off the floor and walked to Wendy. "Meet up at eleven," he told her. Wendy quickly nodded then bolted out the door to her class. Kenny quietly stepped out in the empty hallway. His next class was Spanish. He thought about walking to it, but then he thought about not walking to it. Yes, he liked the second idea better. He walked back into the janitor's closet and shut the door. He turned the lock then went over to one of the corners to read.

To Kenny's misfortune the Janitor was walking back to the closet. He was a slightly overweight illegal immigrant named Mario. Mario made more money in the US then he ever made in Mexico, but still very little compared to the rest of America. Luckily, working in the school allowed him to find a lot of object he used for his own personal enjoyment.

Like the ipod that was playing into his ear at the moment.

Mario swayed his hips back and forth to the black music as they spouted out some English words he didn't know. His hand was carrying some intense cleaner he had used to scrub the shit off the wall in the boy's bathroom. How it got on the wall he had no idea. He hadn't tightened the lid enough when he finished up, so when Mario swung his hand in the air some of the liquid landed on his skin. He let out a yelp dropping the entire bottle onto the ground. The liquid could easily burn his skin. He wasn't that worried since there was a sink in the Janitor closet. He reached to the door to find it was locked.

"Meirda," he cursed starting to feel the stinging pain on his arm. He didn't remember which key on the key ring opened the door so he decided to make a run for the bathroom.

Instead of cleaning up the poisonous liquid, he let it spread across the floor. It slowly seeped underneath the door of the closet letting out a toxic fume into the contained air.

Kenny continued to look at the naked woman on the page during this entire transaction. So when his eyes went from looking at giant breasts surrounding a penis then reopened to fire burning on a red cave with black demons, he responded appropriately.

"Ah fuck. Not again!"


	4. Chapter 4

_a/n: *yawn* i'm tired so i didn't read through. i'll do that tomorrow. um there are some things in this chapter that are really random and have no point lol. also i feel like mentioning my propaganda. i live in colorado and the 2010 midterms are coming up so vote for ken buck! instead of bennet... but i should say this now so i don't get in trouble. the things mentioned of bennet are completely fictional as is this story. do not own south park. _

* * *

Mario walked back to the janitor's closet feeling a bit cleaner. He saw the mess he made and got a bit upset. He hoped the Principal person didn't yell at him again. Every time he nodded in agreement, usually only got the principal guy more angry. He decided to clean it up fast and reached for his keys. The key ring was gigantic and took about fifteen minutes trying and fiddling with them all before he found the right one. Then with success he opened the door.

Dead Body.

He closed the door. It was time to go home and tell Candice that they were moving again. Anywhere, but Arizona of course.

* * *

Stan sat on the bench in the locker room. The smell of sweaty socks and dirty gym wear settled around him. He could hear the conversation of his fellow teammates from the showers.

"No Dude, you don't understand Red's carpet is nothing like the lawn," he heard Clyde's voice say.

"I don't understand why it matters. So she is not a natural red head," Token deep voice commented uncaringly.

"It's pinkish!" Clyde shouted causing the entire locker room to go quiet. Then, in a quick moment, the locker room erupted with laughs and jeers.

Stan sat uncomfortably on the bench. His white towel covered his lower half as he stared at his clothes. He couldn't get over Wendy's comment. For the past few weeks, Wendy had been cold and reserve. Every time Stan attempted affection, she ran off saying she had to do something important. He didn't want to be a bad boyfriend and not allow her to go, but shouldn't girlfriends want to spend time with their boyfriends? The last real date they went on was probably a month ago. Did she not like him anymore?

His mind went to the few times they broke up in the past. It had always been for another boy. Out of nowhere she would drop a bomb shell saying 'I think we should take a break.' He would be confused because nothing would have changed. He would protest and tell her he loved her, but nothing work. A week later, she would be with some other prick. Those relationships never lasted long, and she always came back to him. It made him happy to know that he was obviously better then the other dude she dated, but still it upset him. Was he not good enough for her?

A constricting feeling tightened around his heart. He imagined Wendy, his Wendy, walking away from him. She imagined her walking over to some strange boy and putting her hand on his chest. The boy would take off her clothes and she would let him. His lips would touch her soft skin and his hands…

Jesus Christ, he was feeling nauseous. He wasn't sure if it was from the five mile run and hard training during Soccer practice or from the image that had just entered his mind, but he threw up the contents of his lunch all over the floor.

"That's gross man," Token said with a disgusted face as he just got out of the shower.

"Marsh! What the fuck are you doing ruining my floors for! Go get a mop and clean that shit up," Coach Clay yelled from his office while some of the other kids laughed at him.

Stan let out a tired sigh, and hurried with his clothes. He walked out of the locker room and closed the door to the teasing. The mop was in the janitor's closet at the end of the hall. As he walked through the hall, he imagined what Wendy was doing right now. Was she missing him? Or was she mad at him? Gah he really hated girls!

His foot slipped on something and he caught himself on the wall. He looked down seeing some strange blue liquid and an empty bottle. He frowned at the sight. Don't Janitors have a job for a reason? He stepped over the puddle and put his hand on the doorknob. He turned the unlock doorknob and opened the door to a disgusting chemical smell. Stan wrinkled his nose as he looked inside.

There on the ground laid Kenny with his back against the wall. His head had fallen down into his chest and he almost looked asleep. It didn't take long to decipher that he was dead because his porn magazine was in the ground soaking up some of the blue liquid. If Kenny were alive he would never let his porn be destroyed in such a manner. "Oh my god! They killed Kenny!" Stan said in shock.

He waited patiently for the sound of 'those bastards,' but it never came. He turned to his side. Oh that's right Kyle wasn't with him. He was in the music room practicing. Kyle! He could help Stan figure out what was going on with Wendy.

Stan turned away from the closet completely forgetting about his dead friend and headed to the music room.

Outside the music room he heard a piano melody. Yes, Kyle was inside. Ever since middle school Kyle practiced everyday for at least two hours, except during basketball season. His mother had forced him to start an instrument. When Kyle suggested drums, his mother flipped out and assigned him to the piano. From what Stan could gather. Kyle hated it, but for some reason kept at it.

Stan walked into the music room to see a red head in front of a black piano playing some sort of classical music. When the door made a loud noise as it shut, the classical music stopped. Kyle turned his head to Stan. "Hey Dude, you know I have practice for another half an hour," Kyle told him.

"Yeah. Yeah. I know. I was just hoping you could skip," Stan said weaving through the different instruments.

"Do you know my mom?" Kyle asked with a you're-kidding-right look.

"I just need some advice," Stan sighed in irritation.

"If it's about Wendy you can just leave now," Kyle said with a blank face.

"What? Dude I need your help," Stan protested getting rather irritated.

"Stan it's always the same thing. Wendy's not pay attention to me. I think Wendy might leave me. I think Wendy's mad at me. You sound like a pussy, and I'm done with the shit. If you want to wallow in misery about Wendy you can do it by yourself," Kyle said in an angry huff before turning back around to the piano.

"What's you're fucking problem Kyle?" Stan said getting defensive.

"She's a bitch, dude. You should have learned that in fourth grade," Kyle muttered out and began playing some random notes on the piano. The music just came out angry and random.

"Forget you, Kyle," Stan said pissy and walked out of the music room. If he knew Kyle was going to act like Cartman, he would have just got straight to the fat ass. Inconsiderate douche bag friend, he thought to himself as he left.

* * *

"Eric Dear, when is your little friend coming over?" his mother called from the kitchen.

Cartman paused There Will Be Blood on his ondemand. His fucking mom had a natural talent of interrupting the best parts. The little brat of the oil business man was about to be caught in an explosion. He loved this movie. Greedy men winning and making big bucks were always the best. He checked the clock, and it read ten. Cartman frowned. His loser friend was supposed to be here an hour ago.

"His ass should be here now," he shouted back to his mom, "I'll go pick his poor ass up since he obviously can't afford gas!"

"Oh. Well I made you kids a bowl of ice cream," his mother said as she walked out of the kitchen with two large bowls.

Cartman's eyes lingered on the fatty delicious substance too long. He hadn't had ice cream in months…one bite wasn't going to kill him.

"Mom, Kenny doesn't eat ice cream. He's lactose intolerant. So I'll take his too," Cartman answered.

"Oh he is?" his mother questioned.

Cartman shrugged as his mom put both bowls in front of him. "Aren't all poor people?" he said with a smirk then took a spoonful of the milky goodness. God why did food have to be so good!

* * *

Kenny heard the shrill of screams from newly arrived guest to hell. He was surrounded by hundreds of people who wore confused and scared. Some them even clung onto the arms of strangers hoping they would prevent the future terror. The only on who didn't seemed bothered by the mountains of lava and fire was probably him. He began squeezing through people whose clothing seemed fresh pressed. It wouldn't last for long. Soon their clothes would be dirty and sweaty.

"Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me," he said as he passed by more and more.

Someone grabbed his arm. "What's going on? What's going on!" the woman screamed in panic.

Kenny flinched at the loud noise. "I'm right here, you don't have to scream," he said annoyed. The woman looked confused by his calmness. "You're in hell," he muttered then shrugged out of her grip. He heard her scream behind him.

"Good Day Folks!" a high pitched voice of a horned human shouted from above the stadium.

While everyone else went silent to stare at the person, Kenny pushed through faster. He made it to the front of the stage and gave a wave of hello to Bob who was speaking.

"Oh hi Kenny, welcome back," Bob said aloud and he felt the hundreds of scared people looking at him.

"Thanks," Kenny muttered not to pleased. His mind was still on his new porn he didn't get to finish. He hoped no one stole it from his dead body. He went passed the big red muscle body guards who were containing the group of people.

Behind him he heard Bob shouting to the group, "Now were going to separate you with your sins. So let's form seven groups! Rage right in the back corner!"

Kenny blocked it out as he traveled down a well-known path. Each time he died he made his first visit to Satan. If he didn't Satan got bitchy and made him wait even longer before returning to Earth. So he made his way through the curves and turns of hell to where Satan's place was. He gave a wave at the demons who said hello until he reached a rock wall with a door in it.

He brought his hand up to knock, but it opened before he could.

"Kenny! I just put the lasagna in, but you got come in and see how I decorated the place," a gigantic red man wearing a pink apron said in a deep gay flavor voice.

He shrugged, "Yeah sure."

* * *

Cartman drove in his new silver Mercedes with a disgusting scowl. His eyebrows were pinched together while his frown only deepened. Normally driving in his Mercedes feeling the sleek leather under his hand and the smooth driving would brighten him up because it reminded him of how he blackmailed Senator Bennet. Got him a new nice car and another vote in congress. He loved how almost all Senators were fags. It made it so much easier.

But tonight…the car did nothing for his mood. He had stopped by at Kenny's place. He had touched his parent's disgustingly dirty hands. His foot fell through the moldy floor. His clothes now reeked with poor. What did that get him? Nothing! The faggot hadn't been home. That was when it hit him. Kenny had ditched him for Wendy!

His friend had ditched him for that dirty hippie! It made him angry and caused his grip to tighten on the steering wheel.

He glared out the window following the road that would pass by the school before he turned to the road to his house. In the distance he saw the brick of the school coming into view. It naturally made him angrier. At least tomorrow was Friday.

He saw a flick of purple in the darkness. He focused on it, and realized it was a person sitting on a bench in front of the school. He checked the clock on the dash. It was 11:30. Who would be out this late? And at school? He pressed his foot on the brake to slow his car. The person became more familiar as he got closer. The deep purple pea coat and that gay purple hat could only belong to one person.

His teeth grinded together while he attempted to control his temper. He slammed on the brake coming to a stop right in front of Wendy. He saw the surprise on her face then happiness. He slowly rolled down his tinted windows to hear her yelling, "You're late. Do you know how long I've been sitting out in the cold? You ca"

The words stopped as they both stared at each other. "What are you doing here?" she hissed as her hazel eyes narrowed.

His face scrunched together again in annoyance. This girl was so demanding! He felt the wind against his cheeks, so he tucked his chin into his scarf. "Ho, I should be asking you that, and what the hell did you do with Kenny?" he accused her.

"Me? I didn't do anything to him. He's the pervert who stood me up," she shouted. He noticed a fist forming on her small hand.

"So he did plan to ditch me for you!" Cartman growled. He would get back at Kenny for that.

He noticed her left eye twitching slightly. It almost made him laugh. "You idiot. He's not here so obviously he didn't plan to," she stated calmly but the venom in her voice was noticeable.

"What did you offer him?" he asked.

Wendy looked at him confused, "Why does it matter?"

"If you offered him pussy he planned to ditch me for you. Poor bastard," he mumbled the last part.

"But he's not here," Wendy argued.

Cartman smirked, "You did offer him pussy, and here I thought little miss goody two shoes was above all that immoral shit."

Her cheeks turned a bit red before the anger came, "Oh shut up, fatass!"

He chuckled to himself. For some reason, it brought some pleasure to know the bitch girl wasn't as good as she seemed. Actually, her being out in the middle of the night seemed rather odd. "Why you here?" he asked.

"I locked something of mine in the school…and I need it for tomorrow. Kenny was suppose to help me," she said.

"Who the hell do you take me for, hippie? I'm not your fag boyfriend. I can tell when someone is talking bullshit. Why are you here?" he asked again.

"Why does it matter? Why are you here? Obviously Kenny isn't here so shouldn't you be driving away!" she said changing the subject.

Cartman felt his eyebrow arch in suspicion. Something was going on. "Get in the car," he growled as he faced the street ahead.

"What? No!" she squealed.

He turned back to her. "The max Kenny is ever late for is ten. He's not showing so get in the god damn car, ho!" he ordered.

"I can walk!" she said turning away from him.

He debated driving away and saying fuck the bitch, but he wanted information. With a painful sigh he leaned out his window looking at the girl who was walking away. Her dark black hair was being blown behind her, and his eyes sort of wandered to her ass. She was kind of hot…in the I'm-a-complete-frigid-bitch way. "Wendy," he called her name. By some miracle she actually stopped. He knew he was supposed to stay something to get her into the car, but he couldn't really think of anything. "It's a hybrid?" he sort of fumbled out. It was a lie, but what girl actually knew about cars?

Her head turned. Her eyes seemed confused with his response so he continued, "Don't hippie people like that shit?"

She frowned and gave an angry huff. Aw damn it, did he piss her off again? She started walking to his passenger side door. He felt his mouth drop. It actually worked…wow. She opened it then slammed the door. She buckled her seat belt aggressively. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and fell back into the seat. "I'm only driving with you cause it's cold outside," she mumbled annoyed.

Cartman only rolled his eyes. He pressed on the gas heading in the direction of her house. "Pride's a sin," Cartman commented as they drove on silently.

"What's you're point?" she sniped back.

"Just saying you shouldn't act like such an elitist snob cause you'll still go to hell," he answered.

"Are you being serious? You're talking about my pride? What about yours? Or maybe you're greed, rage, gluttony, sloth, and probably envy too. If they categorized the sins in hell you would have to be mutilated," she hissed and then mumbled out, "you're stomach being praised as the largest in gluttony."

He slammed on his brakes causing her to get whip lashed by the seat belt. "Forget this bullshit! Get the fuck out of my car," he shouted. He pointed to the door.

She paused for a moment. It almost looked like she was in shock.

"I said get the fuck out of my car, ho!" he shouted again. He reached over her form to the doorknob. He then pulled it opened letting the cold air in. She finally moved out of her stiff form. Her eye met his in a cold glare before she unbuckled and got out. She slammed the door shut and began walking away. As soon as the door was closed his foot was on the gas pushing farther and farther away from that cunt.

* * *

Wendy stared at the silver car disappearing into the darkness. She was furious. Not only with Kenny ditching her, but with Cartman taunting her with a ride. Who actually kicks someone out of their car?

Her lips pressed tightly together in a thin frown. There was something nagging at her, though. It felt like regret…or guilt. She shook her head. She shouldn't feel guilty. He was the one being a jerk, but the confirmation in her head did nothing to change the feeling. He had offered her a ride…maybe in a rude way, but he still had. It was actually nice, and then she had to open her mouth. Okay so she did have a reason to be guilty.

She kicked the snow on the ground. She would have to apologize. Ugh! It was like apologizing to the devil! She took a deep breath then headed home. He had gotten her somewhat closer. As she walked home on her road she stopped. "How did he know where she lived?"


	5. Chapter 5

_a/n: i'll edit tomorrow when im awake. ik. why post it if it's not edited? well im fun like that lol. i also like the roll i am on right now. chapter a day. woot. a lot of candy in this ^^ which made me happy. do not own south park_

* * *

Wendy pressed her books to her chest as she glanced down the hallway. There, by Kyle's locker, was the group of boys minus Kenny. This morning his dead body had been found, which made Wendy more comfortable with him not showing up the night before. She was still irritated that he chose yesterday out of all the days to go die, but she would talk to him later about that.

"CU? Everyone gets into CU. Don't act like it's some fucking miracle Clyde," his loud voice laughed.

"Shut up Cartman," Clyde grumbled out and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I didn't! GAH so much pressure," Tweek said twitching as he pulled out his hair.

"Fatass, you're so fucking inconsiderate," Kyle commented. Cartman just continued to laugh, and Wendy felt her eyes glue to him.

He was wearing a maroon polo that had a nice snug fit on him. His light brown hair was shagging over his strong feature and he seemed relax. He actually looked…attractive.

Wendy shook her head of the thought. This guilt feeling was causing her to humanize him. She needed to apologize and do it fast.

RING.

The warning bell to get to class went off, and she watched as the group of boys slowly separated. She saw Cartman walk away and towards her direction. He didn't look at her, and she actually noticed that his relax mode had turned tense. "Cartman," she said to him just as he passed by. He kept walking completely ignoring her. It made her angry, but she pushed it away. "Cartman, I'm sorry," she repeated, "You were trying to help me out and I acted like a bitch."

He stopped and turned his head to her. "Nice to know you finally come to terms with yourself. While it sucks to be a bitch, I'm sure you can find a way to change…maybe," his usual smirk crossed his face.

Her lips pressed into a firm frown. "It amazes me how you can change my apology into something horrible. You're such an asshole, Cartman," she accused.

Cartman turned to her and shrugged, "You realize Wendy that the people who are successful in this world are always assholes or bitches. Look at Hilary or even George Clooney. They got where they are by pushing the weak out of their way."

It's an odd feeling to actually understand what the hell Cartman was saying. Because she wanted to be successful, was the very reason she tried so hard and never let anyone get in her way. But she couldn't admit to herself just yet that she held such a cynical outlook on the world. People helped others. She helped others. "Success isn't measured on you're fame or money. It can be measured by how much you change a person life, how much you help them," she argued.

"God you're such hippie," he rolled his eyes but before she could protest he continued, "Hypothetically, we let you measure your success on helping others. That would mean the most successful person is the person who helps the most people, correct?"

She gave him a quizzical expression as she attempted to determine where he was going with this. "Yes," she said warily.

"So an average joe just getting by would maybe be able to help out a few people from his community while someone like…Bill Gates can help out hundreds of thousands in Africa. Bill Gates is not only successful by your standard, but mine as well. You have to have power, money, or fame if you want to make any god damn difference."

She stared at him. Her eyes were stuck on his determined brown ones. She couldn't argue with him, and it bothered it her. Cartman was never right. Never! Yet she couldn't bring herself to tell him he was wrong. She noticed his awkward body shift.

"Why are you staring at me like that, ho?" he asked a bit agitated.

"Oh," her eyes immediately fell to the floor. Weird…

She heard him snicker softly then say, "Why did you even apology? I thought a bitchie girl like you wouldn't give a shit."

"You know Cartman I can be nice. Besides I decided I should get along with you if we're going to the same school next year," she grumbled out.

"You got accepted to Harvard?" he said in a very surprised voice.

She looked up at him. Her eyebrow arched in suspicion. Most people wouldn't be that surprise if she got in…but then again she didn't…

"Oh I mean that's kewl," he said back tracking.

"I haven't got in yet, but I will," she said.

She thought she saw his lip twitching, but she was beginning to think that maybe her paranoia of Cartman was getting a bit out of hand. He wasn't out to get her. He definitely was a bastard, but that didn't mean he would take it out on her.

"Sure you will…uh so you wanted to do that gay project you got us in trouble over," he stated.

"I got us? You're the one calling me a whore in the middle of class," she said pointing a finger at her.

He shrugged, "Whatever, hippie. So after school."

"You're actually going to help me work on it?" she asked.

"If you don't feed me vegetarian bull shit. I'm not fucking rabbit," he mumbled.

"Wait at my house?" she asked. Before he could answer the second bell went off.

RING.

"Aw god damn it, you made me late, ho!" Cartman shouted as he bolted to his class.

She was seeing something no man ever saw…Cartman running. She couldn't tare her eyes away as his legs stretched to gain further distance. Her eyes followed his legs up to his butt that seemed rather tight at the moment.

OH GROSS. She covered her eyes with her free hand. Gah why was she checking out his ass? Gah and she was late too! This was her third tardy this week. Ugh, what was going on with her?

* * *

Kyle and Cartman were arguing again. Something about how the Jewish Hollywood had been brainwashing our youth for years and is the very reason for the socialist change in our government. Butters and Jimmy were sitting with them today, and while Jimmy seemed rather oblivious to the conversation Butters was getting enthralled in it.

"But Eric how do you determined what is and isn't being played by a Jew?" Butters asked innocently.

"You can't Butters that's the problem! That's why everyone must turn off their TVs completely!" Cartman said as he dug through his brown bag lunch.

"Like you would ever fucking turn off your TV. You're couch has a mold of your fat ass!" Kyle shouted. His face was becoming as red as his hair.

"What are saying Kalh? That you want our future children to rot in front of the television not ever experience the wonders of outdoors activities! Are you trying to make them unhealthy!" Cartman argued leaning over the table to share a death glare with Kyle.

"Yeah Kyle, do you want our children unhealthy?" Butters added not liking the idea one bit.

"Oh for Christ sakes!" Kyle shouted going on a rant how Cartman was full of shit. Stan was slowly deafing himself to his friend's conversation. His eyes stared at the girl wearing the purple sweater. She was in an intense conversation with Bebe. He wanted so much for her to turn around and give him a supportive smile. He wanted to see if she still cared. How did he get her to care? If he did something wonderful, she would fall back in love with him.

Right?

"Hey guys, girls like spontaneous shit right?" he asked the table.

"Oh gezz," Kyle muttered. He covered his face with his hand as he shook his head back and forth.

"Ye-yeah...yeah…yeah…yeah they do Stan. Fu..fu…fu….fudge always helps too," Jimmy added.

"You sound like such a fag, dude," Cartman laughed, "You should get her a shovel though."

Stan sat up straighter as the fatass words hit him. "What dude? Why?" he asked.

"So she can hopefully dig that stick out her ass. Duh," he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I would go with fudge. It's tasty," Butters said to himself.

All his friends were idiots, Stan confirmed.

"Fellas, I…I….I have a joke," Jimmy began.

Stan decided to stop being such a pussy. He was going to go ask Wendy out to do something spectacular. Then after being amazed by his romance Wendy would pronounce her love for him, and they would make love for the first time. Yes, that was exactly how it was going to happen! He pushed himself out of his chair and walked over to his girlfriend.

He saw Bebe poke Wendy's arm then point at him. Wendy then turned her head to look at him. Instead of a smile it was an empty expression. It hurt, but he was determined to change that.

When he reached the table the girls went silent. They all looked at him, but he only looked at Wendy. "Wends, come out with me tonight. I want to surprise you," he said with a sweet smile. He heard a few girls let out a moan like sigh, but Wendy only looked at him like he was crazy.

"Uh Stan," she looked down at the table then back at him, "I'm working on that project."

"What project?" he asked.

It was obviously the wrong question because she rolled her eyes and frowned. "The one I have to do because Cartman got me in trouble, _remember?"_

Oh, he had forgotten about that…

"It won't take all night. I can just pick you up once you're finish," Stan pleaded.

"It will take more then one night. It will take weeks Stan," she answered.

Stan felt like his heart was collapsing again. He just wanted one night with her, but he couldn't get it.

"Fine," she sighed. He looked back up at her like a hopeful puppy dog. "I'll call you afterwards. See you later Stan."

A huge grin popped on his face. "You won't regret this, Wends. It will be amazing," he said to her before skipping back to his table.

* * *

Cartman pulled up to a green house that was surrounded by similar shaped houses. He parked his car on the road before turning off the ignition. He then opened up the door and adjusted his coat. The snow was starting to freeze over so when he walked to the snow covered sidewalk he heard a crack with each step. He couldn't believe he was actually going to help with this project when it was all the hippie bitch's fault. He reminded himself that if he got closer to her, he could figure out her plan. She obviously had plan.

_ I'm not accepted yet._

The words echoed in his mind. Her certainty frightened him, and he wasn't about to be caught off guard. He walked up her pathway and up her stair until he was standing right outside her door. The last time he had been to her house, it was Halloween and Kenny and him had rolls of toilet paper. It was strange how things could change. He brought his fisted hand up to the door then knocked.

After a few seconds, he heard the door knob move. "Oh Hello, are you Wendy's friend?" an older version of Wendy asked him as she opened the door.

"Yes, I came over to help her with her project," he said holding out his hand for her which she took, "I'm Eric Cartman and you must be Wendy's sister. It's a pleasure to meet you." He gave Wendy's mother's hand a quick kiss before letting it go.

Wendy's mother giggled softly. "You are quite a sweet young man. Please come in," she said and waved him inside.

Cartman followed Mrs. Testaburger into their living room. It had a large brown couch pressed against the wall with a orange and brown rug on the ground. The pictures around the room were filled with the Testaburgers helping out one charity or another. He had only been in this room once before…and he definitely did not want to relive that experience. "Wendy dear, you're friend is here," Mrs. Testaburger called.

As she said that a tall dark red headed man came out from the kitchen. He studied Cartman for a moment, "You seem familiar boy."

"It's a small town sir. I'm glad I get to official introduce myself now," Cartman said as he crossed the room to meet her father, "I'm Eric Cartman."

He nodded, "Call me Mr. Testaburger."

"Of course sir," he answered.

"You seem really familiar though. Weren't you the boy that came crying with his mother?" Mr. Testaburger began and Cartman flinched.

"Dad! Let's not talk about that. Cartman get up here," she ordered from the stairs.

He turned back to her parents. "It was nice meeting both of you," he said quickly then headed up the stairs following Wendy to the second door.

As he walked in, he determined one thing.

He should have stabbed his eyes out with his fork today at lunch.

There was so much fucking pink. He felt gay just stepping into the room. There were even stickers! Stickers on the wall!

"Shut the door," Wendy ordered.

He looked out into the hallway like it was his only escape. How long would he last until he turned into Big Gay Al? He had to force his hand to shut the door to the enclosing pink. "God damn it. This isn't some fucking trick to turn me gay cause I've already gone over that with Butters," he snapped.

She walked over to her desk as she said, "What are you talking about?"

"Doesn't all this fake cheeriness give you a fucking headache? Is that why you're always a tight ass cunt at school because you have a headache?" he asked as he stood there awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Cartman. I've lived in this room all my life. I never felt a need to change it," she said as she sat down in her desk chair.

"You've been a tight ass cunt all your life too," he mumbled.

"What was that?" she hissed.

"Nothing," he said, "Your unicorns are glaring at me."

She let out a tired sigh, "Sit down Cartman."

He looked around the girly room to see that Wendy had taken the only seat. It looked like he got the bed. Good, he could take a nap. He undid his jacket and tossed it on the ground as he slipped out of his shoes. He then collapsed onto the bed.

"I would say make yourself at home, but it looks like you already did that," she grumbled.

He only rolled over in the bed so he could face her. Her face seemed tired as she grabbed her laptop and placed it on her lap. She then twisted her chair so they faced one another. "So let's get started," she began.

"What about my snacks?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed warning him of a future bitchy comment, but it never came. Instead she turned to one of her desk drawers and pulled it opened. She reached her hand in and pulled out Double stuff Oreo cookies. He almost drooled on himself.

"I always eat these when I work," she said as she opened the new carton. It felt like déjà vu as she pulled out the first Oreo, but he couldn't place it.

"Hand me one," he ordered.

"You have to come here and get it," she said as she slowly brought the Oreo to her mouth. She took a bite then closed her eyes and moaned, "mmm so good."

He frowned, "If you tease me like that I might bite off one of your fingers and blame it on my hunger."

She only shrugged uncaringly and took another bite. "You're the one not coming to get one," she said with a small smile.

With an angry huff he pushed off the bed. He walked right over to her and yanked the carton away. "Hey!" she protested as he walked back to the bed with Oreos in hand.

He plopped himself down before pulling out a cookie. "If you want one, you have come over here," he repeated her words as he munched on his own cookie.

"I hate you sometimes," she said she stood up from her chair with her laptop. His hand tightened on the carton just incase she decided to steal it, but she walked over to the other side of the bed. She then sat down right next to him. He gave her a side glance. Was she going to sit there the whole time?

She placed her laptop on her lap as she grabbed another cookie. "Okay so what are we going to write this on?" she asked.

She was going to sit there the whole time…huh. He didn't know how to take that. He blinked remembering her question. "It's a civics class. We should talk about how Hitler's reign of government was the best," he said chewing on another cookie.

Wendy gave him a look of disbelief. "No," she stated, "We also have to be able to write 21 pages on the idea."

"I could write 21 pages on that," Cartman mumbled.

"Next idea," she said.

They both sat on the bed thinking in silence. The only sound being the crunch of cookies. "What about the government put the responsibilities of the environment in the hands of the private industry instead of in their own hands," Wendy offered.

"Fuck that. I'm not writing some hippie document," he yelled.

She frowned, "This is going to take fucking forever, if you're not even a little open minded."

"How bout we talk about how everyone is selfish arrogant beings," he said causally.

"Are you being serious with me right now? Or are you purposely wasting my time?" she asked with a glare.

"Now hold on," he said shifting his body on the bed so his torso was facing her. He brought his hands out in front of him to help explain, "Hobbes always commented on how people were ruthless selfish something something. Why don't we take that and discuss how everyone votes based on their own self interest?" he said.

He looked into Wendy's hazel eyes. He was searching for anger or something else negative, but she blinked at him blankly until nodding. "That could work…but not everyone votes on self interest."

Cartman snorted, "Give me one example where they don't?"

Wendy brought her thin finger up to her lip in thought. Cartman had never noticed before, but when Wendy was really thinking a wrinkle would form between her eyebrows. It was sort of…cute.

"Rich democrats who vote to raise taxes on themselves," she argued.

"Those rich democrats believe the poor and unhealthy can't take care of themselves because they are unintelligent, and therefore their genius minds must help them. It's them being a control freak and thinking everyone is beneath them," he stated.

"That's sort of stretch," Wendy said.

"Pfft whateva. I'm sure we can find something else on them," he shrugged.

Wendy smiled at him then turned to her laptop. "The ideas good. I'll think of counter arguments because I doubt your narrow mind could think of anything to go against your argument."

"When you know you're right, there is no reason to look at the other side," he answered smugly.

Wendy let out a soft laugh, "Your arrogance is unbelievable."

"I made you laugh so that has to count for something," he said as he leaned back into the bed frame. He didn't notice, but Wendy blushed and turned her focus on typing. It became quiet again as Cartman munched on the Oreos. He wondered what Wendy was typing down, but he didn't care enough to look over. His eyes just roamed the pink room in search of something entertaining.

"Cartman," she said his name so he turned to look at her.

"Yeah?" he asked

"Don't get offended, but I'm really curious how you got accepted into Harvard," she stated. Her eyes kept darting from him back to the computer. She actually seemed nervous.

He frowned. This had become one his least favorite questions. He looked at her. She was biting on her lower lip as her straight hair fell a bit in her face. He almost wanted to push the loose strand away, but kept his hand in place.

She had been…pleasant. He could tell her. Besides it would only further her frustrations that he got in and not her. "My grades, in honesty, were shit. My test score pretty shitty too. I'm not a book type person, but that doesn't mean I'm not a fucking genius," he said with a smirk.

"How did you get in then?" she asked finally looking him straight in the eye.

He chuckled at her intensity. "I've met a ton of people in my life, and I've done a lot of things. My resume and my letters of recommendations are beyond any stupid faggot my age. I owned my own amusement park at the age of 8. I cured HIV. I started a non profit group for ginger kids. I've published my own Christian rock CD and got some gay reward that means nothing for it. All that was when I was younger. Last year, I managed to use the BP oil spill to make a profit and trick the firm that I was losing money in Colorado because of the gulf. I also have recommendations from Clinton, Mel Gibson, Ben Affleck, Al Gore, Michael Jackson, and many more. Rush Limbaugh also offered me a job after he saw my announcement specials from way back when. Having a background like that can get me into any fucking school I want."

He watched her face go from shock to anger. "You're lying," she hissed, "There is no way you did all that shit and no way all those people recommended you. Michael Jackson's dead!"

He rolled his eyes, "Talk to Kyle, Kenny, or Stan. Shit has been happening to us ever since Elementary school. _I_ just decided to use it to my benefit like asking every celeb or politician I met to write me a recommendation."

"And they just did it?" she stated doubtful.

"They had to after all the shit I had on them," he said smugly.

Her face gave him a deadpanned expression before she faced the computer. "I don't believe you," she answered.

He frowned feeling anger travel through him. "Fine ho. It's the truth, but you go live in you're fucking hippie denial," he hissed out in a huff. He grabbed a handful of Oreos. He had a bad tendency to eat when he was angry. He stopped the habit by keeping food away from him, but the cookies were right there.

There was a knock at the door, and they both turned to face it. "Yeah?" Wendy asked.

The door opened revealing a dark shaggy hair boy wearing a blue cap. "Hey Wends," he said. His smile immediately fell from his face when he saw Cartman laying next to his girlfriend on a bed.


	6. Chapter 6

_a/n Sorry about the longer update! i got sucked into some joker fanfics lol. anyways thanks for the reviews. i do have to say the reviews i get on this story are so much better then any reviews i get on my other stories. there so lengthy and interesting to read! i love you reviewers! anyways enjoy! do not own south park_

* * *

"Stan what are you doing here," Wendy asked.

Stan stood at the door unable to find his voice at that moment. He knew they weren't doing anything, but it bothered him seeing the lard on the bed next to Wendy instead of himself. It was embarrassing to admit, but Wendy and him had never sat on her bed together. Every time he came to visit she would sit in the chair across the room while he settled uncomfortably on her bed. Then before he could make a move on her, she would suggest them going out somewhere. Yet in one day Cartman had managed to get his girlfriend in bed…

It was ridiculous, but he felt jealous. He tried to wave it off with a smile. "I just couldn't wait to see you Wendy." He felt his glare land on Cartman but kept his cool. The fatass just laid there with a cocky grin on his face. A grin Stan wanted to forcefully wipe off.

"Stan," Wendy began tiredly. Stan's eyes snapped to his girlfriend who didn't appear very happy. "I told you I would call you afterwards. We just started," she told him.

Stan felt the frown forming on his face. He knew Wendy had told him that, but didn't girls like surprises. Didn't they like their boyfriend taking the extra initiative? Besides Butters was hiding behind a tree in the cold and he didn't want to be that much of a dick to keep him waiting. "I know Wends…I just have this surprise for you," he began not knowing how to handle this situation. Why did he fail so badly when it came to girls?

"I need to leave anyways, ho. I feel the fag disease seeping into my body. I already have seen the effect of it on Stan, so I need to get the hell out of this room," Cartman said swinging his legs off the bed.

Wendy's eyes had widened then turned to anger. "Are you fucking kidding me, Cartman? I finally get you to work then you just leave," she protested.

Cartman shrugged, "Don't stick faggy stickers on your wall and expect a boy to stay." He slipped on his shoes and grabbed his jacket.

Stan looked at him a bit surprised. Was Cartman actually helping him? The larger boy walked by him with his usual smirk. He then mumbled out, "Thanks dude, I couldn't stand another moment with that cunt."

Stan felt relief. So Cartman was leaving for his own selfish reasons…good. Cartman doing anything nice was something Stan couldn't handle. He nodded at the larger boy who slipped passed him then turned his eyes to his angry girlfriend. Her face was scrunched together painfully almost like she bit into a lemon before she shouted, "Thanks for nothing, fatass!"

Stan didn't know if Cartman heard, but the room became deadly quiet until she slammed her computer shut. "Uh…Wendy," he risked speaking.

She went over to her closet and grabbed her purple coat. Then walked passed him yanking him out of her room. "Come on let's go do whatever the hell this is," she grumbled annoyed.

This wasn't exactly how he planned for the night to start out, but he was sure he could change it. He followed Wendy down the stairs and out the door. Her only words to her parent's were, "All be back later." She then shut the door to the front of her house and turned to face him, "So where are we going?"

Stan tried to smile, but Wendy's frown made him nervous. He rubbed the back of his snow cap before weakly saying, "Stark's Pond."

He noticed her eyebrow rise in confusion before she nodded. "Okay, are you driving or am I?" she asked.

"I'll drive," he said a bit to quickly. Why was he acting so nervous? They had been dating for months and he was acting like it was their first date. Stan Marsh, you need to get a grip. They both got into his car. The car ride to the pond was completely silent. He had attempted a conversation, but all he got back were yes or no responses. He finally pulled up to the park and felt immediately relieved. This would work. He would be known as the best boyfriend in South Park. He smiled to himself as he got out of the car. He ran over to the passenger side of his dark blue Volvo, but before he could open up the door she had already stepped out. She looked about the park curiously.

"So what are we doing here, Stan?" she asked skeptically.

"Close your eyes okay," he told her kindly as he went to the back seat.

"Stan you know I'm not much of a surprise person…I'm more a planner," she told him.

"Wends please close your eyes," he said again and heard her sigh. He check to make sure her eyes were closed then pulled out his portable cooler. He shut the back door then grabbed her gloved hand in his. He pulled her slowly along the path of the park.

"Stan…it is icy," she commented.

"I got you Wendy," he said sweetly into her ear. It didn't seem to help because she still looked tense, but they would be there in a moment.

He stopped there when he saw a lone tree next to the pond. "Open your eyes, Wendy," he said from behind her.

She slowly opened her eyes then let out a gasp of surprise. Stan felt a more confident grin form on his face. There under the lone tree sat a small white portable table with two fold out chairs. There was a single candle and rose on the table. He then whispered behind her, "I decided that our perfect date should be held where I first realized how much liked you." His thoughts drifting back to elementary school and her ice-skating.

"Wow," she whispered.

"Is that a good wow?" he asked a bit nervous.

She turned to face him with a smile. "Of course it is," she said then kissed him softly on the lips.

He felt a goofy grin form on his face when she pulled away. "Well this isn't all, I brought us a late night dessert too," he said holding out the cooler.

She smiled, and they held hands as they walked over to the table. This was going great! He had planned this perfectly. He pulled out Wendy's chair in the snow, and she sat down. He then went over to his own seat. "My mother helped me make this," he told her feeling a bit of blush cross his face. He opened up the cooler and pulled out a big slice of cheesecake and two forks. He handed one to Wendy as he watched her expression carefully.

She seemed surprised again and then smiled…but it seemed forced. Was he just being paranoid? He couldn't help it, but he had to ask. "Is there something wrong?" he asked her.

"No everything's great," she said and dipped her fork into the cake.

They ate in silence for a few moments as Stan studied Wendy's face. She really was beautiful. The way her dark hair naturally curled at the ends flowed naturally around her snow-white skin. She reminded him of a Snow princess. He needed to tell her. He needed to know if she felt the same way about him. He gulped trying to swallow his fears before looking at Wendy again. "I know this seems random, but I actually brought you out here to talk about something," he began.

He waited patiently for the violin to start playing. Butters was hiding behind the tree ready to play some pretty melody to match his confession of love.

"About what?" she asked.

Stan kept waiting for the music, but it never came. So he repeated the key words. "Talk about something," he said it a bit louder.

Wendy gave him a confused look, "Yeah I get that. About what?"

God damn it Butters, he thought to himself. He looked at Wendy and felt his confidence dwindling. His hand had even begun to shake with a tinge of fear. "Um.." he began.

Wendy's hazel eyes looked into his. He couldn't do it. "To say congratulation on Harvard. I'm so happy for you," he said with a force smile…even though he was furious at himself for not being able to say three simple words.

He watched as Wendy's face turned from surprise to anger. A frown had traveled onto her face, and she unexpectedly stood up. "You're so inconsiderate, Stan," she said aloud.

He felt his face looked as confused as he felt. "What?" he asked standing up too.

"Just leave me alone," she said back to him as she started walking away from him.

He didn't know how he messed up, but he wanted to fix it. "Wends, I'm sorry," he shouted out.

She didn't stop. He just watched as her purple jacket got farther away.

"Wends, I can drive you," he called out to her.

"I can walk!" she shouted back.

…

His hands flew down to his side. "Aw…aww come on!" he said into the sky.

"Hey Stan! Sorry I'm late," Butter's said through heavy breath from behind him. "My mom made me put on all this extra clothing because of how cold it was. Where's Wendy? Should I start playing?" the innocent blond asked as he pulled out his violin.

"I have to talk to her," Stan muttered but her purple jacket had disappeared. He then heard Butters start playing the violin.

He rolled his eyes as he rubbed his hand across his tired face. Why did everything have to go wrong with him?

* * *

Wendy strutted through the snowy sidewalk. She was frustrated. She wanted to be furious at Stan for mentioning Harvard, but she couldn't be because it wasn't his fault. She hadn't told him of her rejection…It meant she was a failure, and she never wanted Stan to see her as a failure.

She inwardly growled. She knew she should turn around and apologize to Stan, but she couldn't. Her pace quickened down the sidewalk. She ducked her chin under her jacket as the wind pressed against her face. Why couldn't she have gotten accepted then she never would have snipped at Stan? But then again why did Stan even have to mention it? It wasn't any of his business! She let out an annoyed sigh. And Stan had got her cheesecake…she hated cheesecake. Doesn't he know that? She couldn't figure out who she was mad at more…herself or Stan.

She heard a pounding noise in the distance. She squinted her eyes trying to determine what it was.

Boofs. The sound echoed in the night again. She felt somewhat thankful for it because it distracted her from her thoughts.

Boofs. She stepped faster. She doubted what was causing the noise was dangerous…but she wanted to be careful.

Boofs.

She turned around a snow back and saw a boy in a red jacket throwing snowballs up at a window. She recognized that red jacket anywhere. She let out a sigh…of course. "What are you doing, Cartman?" she asked as she walked over to where he stood in someone's front lawn.

He had been about to throw another snowball when he stopped in a jump. He then tilted his head to her. "What are doing? Following me, ho? Just so you know desperately stocking me isn't going to make me like you," he told her with a playful smirk. He then turned back to the house and threw another snowball at the second floor window.

"Get over yourself," she growled.

He shrugged before bending down to the snow and grabbing another clump of snow. "You're the one following me instead of doing whatever with your faggy boyfriend," he said causally as he grouped the snow into a ball in his gloves.

Her eyes fell to the ground in guilt. He did have a point. She then shot him a glare. "I'm not following you! I'm just walking home!" she said pointing her finger at him.

"Stan really that bad in bed or are you just not into anal," he asked with a cocky grin as he threw another snowball.

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman!" she shouted throwing her arms in the air.

He started snickering to himself. "You know you make it too easy," he commented and bent back to the snow.

"I hate you," she mumbled and began walking away in an angry huff.

"You know what you need hippie. You need to find someway to let that crazy anger out," he said to her back.

She ignored him. She would not be taking advice from Eric Cartman! She pushed her gloves farther into her jacket pocket as she continued to walk.

Boof.

Something wet and cold slammed into the back of her head. Her hand turned into a fist inside her pocket before she whipped her head around to see Cartman grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Do you want to take that back before you get pounded to the ground with snow?" she said coldly to him.

"Pfft. You're a girl…like I'm worried," he said sarcastically, "I could take you any-"

A big snowball hit him right in the face stopping him from finishing. She felt a smile cross her face as she watched the snow slowly slide off his skin and into his jacket. He was frowning before he muttered, "You're dead Testaburger."

Before she knew what to do, snowballs came flying at her. She let out a squeak as she attempted to dodge them. She fell on her knees to the ground trying to grab her own snow. She felt one hit the side of her coat as she group her own snow together. She quickly stood up making a run for it while she aimed. She then tossed her snowball back hitting Cartman right in the face again causing him to stop. She giggled softly at his angry expression.

But then he started running…right towards her. She gasped and ran away from him. She ran in a circle around the yard with Cartman right behind. She never took Cartman for running, but damn he was fast. She pushed herself a bit faster. It didn't help because in a moment she felt someone tackle her down to the ground. She didn't let the surprise impact with the ground slow her. She quickly tried to squirm away from the hold, but Cartman was on her too fast. His hands grabbed her sides and twisted her around so she was facing him. He had her pin between his legs and grabbed her flailing arms. He threw them above her head then pushed her wrist together so he group them in one of his hands. She kept fidgeting trying to find away to free herself, but she couldn't break out. She finally stopped moving to look up at Cartman's face. His brown eyes were so deep and thoughtful. She loved the way the color match perfectly with his hair. She then glanced away embarrassed. There were no attractive attributes about Cartman. He seemed to have been waiting for her to give up and finally smirked. "I believe it is time for my revenge and to prove to you why men are better then women," he said as his free hand grabbed a pile of snow.

Her eyes widened realizing what he planned to do. "Don't you dare Cartman!" she shouted and began wiggling again.

"Hey you challenged me," he argued as he held the snow in his hand.

"No! You started it!" she protested.

"Okay well what do I get if I don't push snow into your face?" he asked with a calculating grin.

He always had to get something out of it! Wasn't there such a thing as being nice! "Nothing, Cartman! Get off," she shouted again.

"That's a horrible answer, ho. How do you ever plan on getting into politics if you don't know how to make deals with the opposition?" he asked while he rolled his eyes.

She stopped fidgeting and looked up at Cartman baffled, "How did you know I wanted to get into politics?"

He rolled his eyes again. "Pfft. Are you serious? You make it pretty obvious," he said to her.

She knew it wasn't something to be amaze over, but Stan had repeatedly asked her what she wanted to do in the future. She didn't know how many times she said lobbying or politics. She glanced up at Cartman's strong features again. He had become quite attractive over the years…stop. Stop it, Wendy! She told herself. Her mind though had become quite aware of how their hips were meeting at the moment. "Cartman get off," she said again but it came off like begging.

"Fine, how bout this? You admit to being a dirty hippie and I get off," he stated.

"What? NO!" she shouted again and began squirming. However, the squirming only caused the hip thing to worsen as a fluttering feeling went into her stomach.

He shrugged. "Guess it's snow then," he answered then pushed his snow filled hand into her face. She closed her eyes and mouth as cold snow was pressed against her face. She muffled in annoyed growl while she jerked in his grip.

She heard chuckling, and as soon as the snow fell from her face she was glaring at him. "I'm going to kill you," she stated deadly.

"I thought you were all about peace and being diplomatic," he smirked.

"Not when it comes to you, Cartman," she hissed.

"I feel so special," he chuckled again. His grip had tightened around her wrist while his other hand kept him above her body.

She felt awkward being pinned down by Cartman and mumbled out, "You're suppose to let me go now."

His eyes were studying hers, and it felt like they were attempting to read her mind. It made her uncomfortable so she glanced away. He finally shook his head like her words had just entered his mind. "Yeah guess so," he mumbled, "You got off easy this time." He then pushed himself off of her leaving her lying in the snow.

The cold immediately attacked her once his warm body had left…and she found herself missing it. Wendy, stop thinking things like that. She pushed herself up off the snow as well. She watched as Cartman brushed the snow off his knees. She could easily grab snow and put it down his coat. She smirked.

She went to bend down for snow when she heard, "Hey Eric! Hey Wendy…what are you guys doing at my house?"

Butters walked up holding a black case of sorts. He seemed confused to see them together. Actually the whole thing was perplexed in Wendy's mind too. She had been wrestling in the snow with Cartman outside Butters's house. How do you explain that?

"FINALLY BUTTERS!" Cartman said throwing his arms in the air, "I've had to spend time with the dirty hippie because you took so fucking long! Do you know the type of diseases they carry?"

Butters started to get nervous, "I'm sorry Eric. I didn't know you were coming over."

"Always forgetful Butters. You really should check with a doctor about that. Anyways let's go inside and I'll remind you," he said waving Butters in.

Wendy doubted they ever had plans. Cartman had a way for putting blame on others. Butters started following Cartman before glancing at Wendy, "Is Wendy coming too?"

"Of course not Butters! Diseases!" Cartman proclaimed while he opened Butters front door for him.

"Oh," Butters said innocently then gave her a sweet smile, "Get well soon Wendy!"

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not sick Butters!" she shouted but the door had already shut. She found herself pouting out in the front lawn. Cartman could be such a manipulative bastard sometimes, but she secretly had to admit that a small part of her found it humorous. She pushed that small part away as she began her walk to her house. Amazingly enough…she felt less angry. Maybe she did need to find a hobby to help her take out her anger. No, she would not take advice from Cartman.

* * *

Cartman glanced out the window to see her walking down the sidewalk. He took in the way her somewhat wet purple jacket clung to her curves around her waist. He also noticed the mess her black hair was in. He found himself smirking proudly knowing he was the cause of it. He then remembered the feel of her body between him and the look in her hazel eyes. It caused that warm feeling inside of him again. He frowned.

"Eric?" Butter's asked innocently.

"Cunt," he muttered the word attempting to forget all about Wendy Testaburger.


End file.
